


tailored fit

by kaiszo



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Embarrassment, Eventual Smut, Hairdressing, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Money, Mutual Pining, Office, Office Supplies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Tension, Sexual innuendos, Tailors, alex and thomas are SALTY, at each other of course, barber shops, emailing, thomas is very rich as expected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiszo/pseuds/kaiszo
Summary: thomas jefferson and alexander hamilton have hated each other ever since the immigrant was an intern. they've been going at each other's throats, but thomas thinks the one of the problems he has with alexander can be solved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> nEW FIC AAAAAAAAAA hopefully you'll like it!! im trying my hardest to stay as focused as i can here, and hopefully ill update it much faster and not forget about it a month at a time,, heh
> 
> but YEET here we go!

Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson have always had a mutual hatred towards each other. Even on the first day of Alexander's internship, Thomas knew something was up with this kid, and he would not tolerate it.   
  
Over the years, the hatred has sprouted further, but the entire office could agree on one thing.  
  
There was a bit of sexual tension flourishing between them, too.   
  
Each time it was mentioned to either of them, together or separately, they would both completely deny it, with a 'Why would you ever think that?' following a gagging sound or a shudder.  
  
Their frenzied arguments would usually occur after an acrimonious debate at a meeting. Thomas would usually comment on his horrible posture, the 'stupidity' of his financial plan, how short he was, and things of that sort. Meanwhile, Alexander would bite back, commenting on his pompous manner, the way he walks, his ridiculous hair and suits, his work ethic, his expensive manor (which is way too big for one person to live in), and the way he spends his money in stupid, selfish ways.  
  
They would both exit the meeting room red in the face, anger in their eyes, Alexander's hands curled up into fists, Thomas usually smirking in supposed satisfaction, yet sometimes it would be the complete opposite. They were at the same level of wits, which created more tension in the two of them, and made their arguments and debates more interesting, making them more intriguing to listen to.  
  
Alexander Hamilton didn't think there was much wrong with his own manner, or the way he spoke, or anything about him in general. Yes, you could describe him as self-centred, but he didn't make every conversation he had about himself (unlike Thomas Jefferson). He was confident, but the good type of confident; the type of confident you would want to see in a determined hard-worker.   
  
Speaking of a hard-worker, Alexander was very much hard-worker. Too much of one.  
  
When the first two words which pop up into your head when you think of someone are 'hard-worker' and 'over-achiever', that's not a good sign. And those are exactly the words that Alexander Hamilton is associated with.  
  
Anyone you will ask about him will say that he works too hard, that he achieves too many things to quickly, that he thinks  _way_  ahead of time, and that he's willing to do anything to get what he wants.  
  
That applies to anyone you ask about him, unless it's Thomas Jefferson.   
  
Thomas would probably say something along the lines of, "His hobby is offending me on Twitter and being the embodiment of a headache."  
  
Yes, people saw problems and flaws in his work ethic and lifestyle, but not as many as Thomas did. To him, the hatred was like a microscope, focusing in on his ways, and picking out every single misconduct.  
  
As Thomas thought more and more about it, a few of these problems could be solved, but Thomas Jefferson would not even spare a single moment for Alexander Hamilton, unless it was to anger him as much as humanely possible, through debate or some other form.  
  
One of those problems was the overall quality of his appearance.  
  
It seemed as though the man had only two suits, seemingly too large on him, both of horrible colours (in Thomas' opinion). He most likely showered once a week, due to all the work he's 'too busy' doing, as if he can't just take a moment to try and do some sort of human function to ensure that he doesn't  _die_.  
  
But does Thomas care?  
  
_He shouldn't, but he does._ _  
  
_ No no no, he completely doesn't care.  ~~The man could die, and it would lift a great weight off of his shoulders.  
  
~~ Ah, where were we? Yes, appearance.  
  
His hair was a mess, raven locks tied back into a messy bun at the back of his head, sometimes just draping over his face and shoulders on a rough day.  
  
The bags under his deep, brown eyes were so dark that even Lucifer's hell couldn't compare.  
  
In conclusion, he looked like a  ~~hot~~  mess most of the time.  
  
Thomas thinks that something could potentially change here.  
  
Perhaps, something that would actually fit him, maybe something that would make him look fit for an office environment.  
  
An  _actual fucking suit._ _  
  
_ For once in his life, Thomas Jefferson had contemplated whether or not to spare a moment for his mortal enemy, Alexander Hamilton.  
  
He can't fucking believe it, but if it's to make him reach up to his standards a bit more, it might happen.  
  
Why is he thinking about this, thinking about how he could make Hamilton reach his standards? Why is he even thinking about him?  
  
Fuck it.  
  
He might just spare a moment.  
  
Or two.  
  
\--  
  
It was the middle of the day, and Alexander was working on something ahead of time, as expected.  
  
In the corner of his laptop screen, an e-mail notification popped up.  
  
An email from none other than Thomas Jefferson.  
  
"What does he want now," Alexander spat to himself, "Probably yet  _another_  e-mail criticising me."  
  
He clicked on the notification, revealing the e-mail.  
  
_  
Dear Gremlin,  
  
It has come to my attention over the weeks that your overall appearance and public presentation is lacking. Severely.  
  
I, as the kind, kind soul I am, have come to a conclusion.  
  
I would like you to come to my office at the end of the day, if I'm even present, as you technically live in your office.  
  
I'm not willing to wait any longer than 9pm. You better hurry, if you're even slightly interested in my proposition.  
  
Very patiently waiting,  
Thomas Jefferson.  
  
_  
Is this man out of his damn mind?  
  
What the fuck is he thinking, telling Alexander that '...his overall appearance and public presentation is lacking. Severely.', and calling him a gremlin?  
  
Oh, this man is getting chewed out at his soonest convenience. Fuck waiting until the end of the day, Alexander wants to get this over and done with, whatever stupid idea comes into that man's head it is.  
  
He clicked the reply button and quickly typed up a response before hitting send.  
  
  
_Dear Fucking Tree,_ _  
  
Get prepared for an ass-whooping, you pretentious, self-loathing prick.   
  
Your favourite cunt,  
Alexander Hamilton.  
  
_  
As soon as he pressed send, Alexander was slamming the door of his office shut, the anger in his system building up with every long step he took. With his quick, aggravated pace, he'd be at Jefferson's office in no time. He rushed through people in the halls, wondering why they were even out of their offices in the first place, his arms swinging with the surprisingly steady beat of his provoking stride.  
  
Without knocking, he swung the door to Jefferson's office wide open.  
  
"Thomas fucking Jefferson." Hamilton hissed, his gaze piercing the seemingly amused Jefferson sitting at his desk.  
  
"Perfect timing, Hamilton. I just finished reading your  _ever so elegantly_  composed e-mail." Jefferson replied, a shit-eating grin forming on his face with every word.  
  
"What is this  _proposal_  you're speaking of? A private debate meeting? A place where I  _finally_  get to launch my fist at your jaw?"  
  
"As much as I'd love to," Thomas cleared his throat, "That is not what I was thinking of."  
  
Alexander looked slightly confused, yet still full of anger, "What is it, then?"  
  
"I didn't even bother asking for your opinion on this, but we both have the weekend and Monday off."  
  
"Wh-"  
  
"Meet me at my residence at 10am sharp on Saturday. I'll e-mail you the address at the end of the day, I have an appointment booked."  
  
"Why the fuck woul-"  
  
"No questions or opposing what I just said, Hamilton. Do as I say, and I  _won't_  bother you for the rest of the day."  
  
"You know what, Jefferson?" Hamilton tsked, "Fine. I'm intrigued to see what murder scheme you have set up for me."  
  
"Goodbye, Hamilton."  
  
"Go fuck yourself."  
  
Hamilton left as soon as he could, shutting the door forcefully behind him, walking to his office much more relaxed than his way to Jefferson's office.  
  
"Tch,  _murder scheme._ "  
  
\--  
  
Spending the last two days of the week overthinking to what this could be, Hamilton eventually did arrive at Jefferson's house on Saturday, far too early, as he is for everything.  
  
It was a fair day, the blue sky dotted with a few clouds, the blinding sun peeking out from a cloud covering it. It took Alexander a while to adjust to the bright light and slight breeze of fresh air, as the only times he ever went outside were to go to work.  
  
Of course, a rich man would have a big house and a big car. The house was three stories, and was painted white with white, concrete bricks outlining the corners. Large windows were placed around the walls, around fifteen from the front view of the house were visible. There was a small porch upfront, with a bench swing and chess table. Parked in front of the house, was a large black car, which Alexander was used to seeing parked outside of their workplace, usually in the most obnoxious spot. The least he could say, was that the house was nice.  
  
Anyhow, he knocked at the door, thinking he looked presentable enough. Why was he even knocking, especially at Jefferson's door, of all people?  
  
"Well look who decides to knock for once. I figured you'd come way too early, even though I told you to be here at 10am sharp, so I got ready in advance." Jefferson drawled, fully dressed in a shirt and pants, seemingly too formal for an 'outing'.  
  
"Shut up, I don't need your snarky comments. Now where the fuck are we going?"  
  
The little man was already full of aggression, and it was only what, 9.44am?  
  
"You'll see. Now get in the car." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alexander finds out what thomas had planned out for him, and is slightly confused about why thomas is being so generous to him all of a sudden.

"And why should I trust you?" Alexander hissed, seemingly to have forgotten that he actually agreed to this, just now starting to protest.  
  
"Hamilton, just.. Get in the damn car. I'll tell you what it is I'm doing when we actually get in."  
  
"It better not be car sex I sw-"  
  
"It's not _fucking_ car sex, Hamilton! Stop thinking with your dick all the time!"  
  
Alexander huffed and opened the car door before sitting in the passenger seat, buckling his seat-belt. It wasn't long until Thomas joined him in the driver's seat.  
  
"So, what are you doing?" Alexander said in a monotone voice, proving that he was unamused by this ' _silly gimmick_ ' of Thomas'.  
  
"We're going downtown. As I mentioned in my e-mail, I'm a very kind, kind soul. We're getting you a new suit."  
  
Hamilton rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? I'm thankful, yes, but why _you?_ "  
  
"I figured that some of the many problems I have with you may be solved. This is one of them; your terrible, _terrible_ appearance." Thomas drawled out, seemingly tired of Hamilton's bullshit already.  
  
" _Thanks_." He said, the word practically _dripping_ with sarcasm. "I don't need to change my appearance to make _you_ happy, but sure."  
  
Thomas sighed at his remark, starting the car and pulling out of his driveway.  
  
Silence drew on for the first 5 minutes of the drive, with Jefferson occasionally clearing his throat and Hamilton's varied expressions screaming all of his thoughts out loud. Jefferson decided to interrupt the silence, as it was getting too long and awkward for each of them.  
  
"Is there _anything_ you want to listen to, that _isn't_ complete and utter _trash_..?"  
  
"As long as it's not country or anything that the kids listen to nowadays, I'm fine."  
  
"Is Chopin okay with you?"  
  
Hamilton's eyebrows seemed to shoot up into his hairline, surprised that Jefferson didn't listen to horrible music after all. "Well, I didn't know you were a classical guy."  
  
"And I didn't know that you were actually _cultured_."  
  
"Cut your bullshit, Jefferson. Let's _try_ to be civil outside of work?" Hamilton suggested timidly.  
  
"Says the one who doubts me and thinks that I would fuck you in my car, _Alexander_."  
  
"Well, _Thomas_. Looks like you have complied."  
  
A hum of agreement came from the taller man, as the music started playing. It was a gentle tune, relaxing them both and releasing the remaining stress from their systems from the beginning of today's encounter. It was, well, nice to be in each other's presence, at this moment.  
  
"Oh, and by the way, the suit isn't the only thing you're getting."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
Thomas let out a small chuckle, glancing at the smaller man's confused expression.  
  
"You're also getting a small haircut. Your hair is _just slightly_ overgrown."  
  
"Fuck you, I know." Hamilton spat, before his tone turned softer, "Thank you, though."  
  
Thomas couldn't help but smile to himself at the man's sudden honest generosity. He had suddenly forgotten about the bitterness between them, and thought that he might actually not mind Alexander that much, if he got to know him a little bit better.  
  
\--  
  
Thomas parked his car at a sidewalk, stepping out onto the street and closing the door behind him. Alexander got out soon after, and Thomas waved a ' _come hither_ ' motion at him.  
  
"Follow me, the hairdressing salon is just down the street."  
  
"I can't believe you're actually doing this."  
  
"Well, you can pinch yourself, or whatever, because this isn't a dream. I'm doing this, because it's a problem that needs to be solved."  
  
"I figured so, according to your standards."  
  
They walked in, the smell of expensive hair products and hair equipment in the air, and were met by a freckled man, dark brown curls tied back into a bun at the back of his head.  
  
"Thomas! How good is it to see you again?" The man welcomed him with a hug, "And who is this that you have brought with you?"  
  
"Oh, John, well this is my co-worker, Alexander. I have decided that I need to solve one of the many problems I have with him."  
  
"Nice to meet you Alexander! Thomas has told me.. a lot of things about y-"  
  
John was interrupted by Thomas clearing his throat, faking a cough.  
  
"Ah, sorry."  
  
"Nice to meet you too, John. I wouldn't be surprised if you know a lot about me. He talks shit about me to anyone."  
  
John gave a brief smile at Alexander, looking up at Thomas.  
  
"So, what will we do for Alexander today?"  
  
Thomas hummed, placing a hand on the smaller man's shoulder, "Well, I thought we could give his hair a bit of a trim? It's overgrown, and to me it looks _horrible_." He said, patting his hand on his shoulder as Alexander flipped him off.  
  
"Now, Thomas, it doesn't look bad! Be a bit nicer, eh? So, follow me, Alexander."  
  
Alex complied, following John to where he would be getting his hair cut.  
  
He sat in the chair before John put a black cloak over him, putting his hair over it.  
  
"So, Alexander, how did Thomas even convince you to this?"  
  
"Well, he sent me an e-mail, trash talking me _as per usual,"_ Alex glanced at Thomas, "And he said to meet me at his house.."  
  
Alex kept talking until he had went over everything, and he heard Thomas sigh, which he rolled his eyes at.  
  
\--  
  
"And.. We're done." John said, stepping away from Alexander after taking off the cloak.  
  
"Wow, John.. This, this looks amazing! Thank you!" He had a genuine smile on his face, his eyes cresent-shaped. "And my hair is really soft too.."  
  
He was running his fingers through it as his smile transferred onto John, "Thank you for appreciating my work, Alexander. You're very much welcome!"  
  
Thomas payed at the register, smiling at John.  
  
"Wait, John. Are there any hair products you would recommend Alexander here?"  
  
"Well, yes! The ones I used today aren't too expensive. Here, I'll write you a list of the products I used." He sing-songed, picking up a pen.  
  
He smiled before sliding a piece of paper to Alex, "Hopefully these will be of use to you."  
  
"Once again, thank you John. Hopefully I'll see you soon? If I have any money" Alexander joked, a chuckle coming from John.  
  
"Bye you two!"  
  
The bell chimed as they opened the door to leave, waving a quick bye to the freckled man.  
  
"You know what Thomas? Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome, Alexander. Now, time to get you a fucking suit."  
  
Thomas would be a fool if he said that Alexander didn't look better.  
  
He'd be a fool if he said that he didn't look good.  
  
\--  
  
They pulled up to an expensive looking shop near some townhouses. It had a brick exterior and a large, black plaque at the top, reading 'H. Mulligan Tailors'  
  
The marble flooring of the interior really showed how expensive and posh it was, and Alexander felt like he was disrespecting his surroundings.  
  
"Ah, Thomas, bonjour!" A man came up to them, hugging Thomas and smiling at Alex. "Who is this you brought with you today, hm?"  
  
"Oh, well Laf, this is my co-worker, Alexander."  
  
"Alexander, what a beautiful name! What a pleasure, mon bijou. My name is Marie-Joseph P-"   
  
"His name is Lafayette. You can call him Laf."  
  
Alexander sniggered, "So I'm not the only person you interrupt."  
  
Lafayette let out a subtle laugh, "Yes, he does interrupt a lot of people. So, what are you here for today, gentlemen?"  
  
"Mr Hamilton here is getting a presentable suit for himself, finally."  
  
Lafayette gasped and clasped his hands together, "Perfect! Alexander, please follow me to Mr Mulligan! And Thomas?"  
  
Thomas looked up, "Hm?"  
  
"You can follow if you'd like."  
  
Alexander followed the tall, elegant Frenchman through the building into a room which the door of had the sign 'Staff Only' written on it. Inside of the room was a large desk in the middle, cabinets at the sides, multiple sewing machines on the counter-tops and a tall, dark man in a shirt and vest was sitting at the desk.  
  
"Mr Mulligan, we have a customer."  
  
Mr Mulligan got up from his seat and walked over to Alexander, reaching out his hand. "Hercules Mulligan, at your service."  
  
This man was majestic in his own way, his spectacles sitting at the mid-point of his nose, his clothing well fitted and looking of high quality and value. Glistening dark skin in the dim lighting of the room, short curly hair and deep, dark brown eyes. Someone as tall as him was definitely intimidating, but something about him was very welcoming and warm.  
  
"Alexander Hamilton. It's a pleasure, Mr Mulligan."  
  
"What could I do for you two gentlemen? I've been acquainted with Thomas for a while, as his first time here was roughly 6 years ago. I love newcomers, especially if a regular customer is with them." Hercules smiled, bringing a sense of warmth to them. He was like a huge teddy bear, one that you just want to hug.  
  
"My co-worker, Alexander here needs a new suit. Desperately."  
  
"Great! So, a tailored suit will do, won't it?"  
  
"It would be very much appreciated, sir." Thomas chimed, a slight stutter to his voice.  
  
"So, Alexander. Do you know your measurements?"  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Do you know how much your arms measure, your legs, thighs, chest, et cetera?"  
  
"No, sir." Alexander murmured, seeming to be ashamed that he had to ask the tailor to clarify his question.  
  
"First of all, we have to get that all out of the way. Lafayette, do you mind getting the measuring tape?"  
  
"Coming right up!"  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is up!! i hope you liked reading it!
> 
> also, john definitely sees smth between the two of them.  
> just saying ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU LIKED THE FIRST CHAPTER OOOOOOOOOF
> 
> please excuse any mistakes ;; 
> 
> but yeah!! hopefully i won't neglect this and update at least 2 or 3 times a month  
> im not sure how many chapters long this fic will be, but i know that theres going to be more than 5!  
> also, apologies if this is a bit 'all over the place' or unbalanced, i haven't written a proper fic in over a year :(


End file.
